One Of Us
by paddywhacked
Summary: The life of a news girl is hardly in easy in turn of the century New York, but it's made even harder by the refusal of the boys to accept them as legitimate sellers, and the slow realization that the lines may never be breeched.
1. Sadie G She's Crazy, See?

New York was bustling. It was a little after five in the afternoon and the factories were opening their doors to signal the end of the long work day. Every newsie in the area seemed to have flocked to the doors, hoping to catch some of the workers interest with their wildly catchy headlines. Jack Kelly was no exception. Leaned up against one of the city's ornate lamp posts, he played with the bandana tied securely around his neck as he tried to figure out just what his hook should be. Things like this took consideration, timing, and brains. Jack liked to think he'd been blessed with all three. He held the paper out in front of him, scanning the headlines for a little something to go off of. Another article on the mayor's supposed tax evasion was blazing across the front page - useless. Flipping through he finally spotted a small blurb about the police commissioner and his mistress. No doubt Pulitzer's journalists had been paid off well to keep this story off the front page. Patting himself on the back, Jack was just about to start throwing his pitch when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

Letting his gaze drift down he caught sight of the small girl at his side, scanning over her own paper, her deep green eyes squinted in concentration. She let her hand fall from his sleeve when she felt his eyes boring into her. Grimacing she held the paper in her hand out to him, her eyes showing how helpless she was despite the fact that everything about her was defiant and even a bit prissy.

"What's it say, Cowboy?" The girl brushed her hair away from her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. Perhaps becoming a newsgirl hadn't been the best decision but she'd been left with little else in the form of career options. Left parentless, penniless, and starving she'd done her best to get buy, finding space in the Central Park News Girls Dormitory. And somehow she'd managed to get by with a bit of help. It was no secret that the boys looked at the girls as nothing more than a nuisance but she never gave up hope that maybe one day they'd accept her as one of their own.

"Aw Christ, Sadie. I ain't got da time for dis." The girl gave him a pleading look and folded her small hands in front of her in an act of what could almost pass for supplication. Jack let out a sigh and flicked the page out of habit as he scanned over it once more, reading the headlines out to her. "Van Wyck in Ice Trust Scandal ... Two Found Murda'd In Uptown Manhattan..." Sadie held up a hand to signal that he could stop. Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow, but said nothing as he folded his pape back up and set it down with the rest of his pile. Let her think she had something useful, it wasn't any skin off his neck if she ate or not that night. And Christ, the skirt couldn't even read – what the hell was she doing working as a News Girl anyways? Did she think this was some kind of free ride that anyone could hop onto or off of as they pleased? But he kept his mouth shut and leant down to heft his collection of papes up, ready to start hocking his headline.

"Thanks, Cowboy. I'se appreciate it." She gave him a weak smile and pushed away from where she'd been leaning next to him, her pape held high above her head and she called out her slightly twisted headline. "Mayah's scandal leads ta' murda! Murda uptown! Killa on the loose. Read all about it!" A small crowd started to form around her, all abuzz with a mixture of sordid interest and pure fear, all of them wondering just _who _this dangerous killer was, and Jack smirked slightly. He had to give the little tart some credit. She definitely knew how to turn a headline, catch the attention of the throngs of people that were constantly buzzing through New York. And she knew just how to play the gender card. In her tattered skirt and bonnet she most definitely differed from most of the other girls she lodged with. But Jack, and the other boys, still couldn't stand their female competition. It was a man's world and there was no room for little girls who needed tending. Hell, it wasn't his job to read her the headlines – and in doing so, really, wasn't he only hurting himself? It was a constant battle for survival and for reputation between the boys and girls of the black and white print. And today would be no exception. If he didn't outsell his pride would most certainly be threatened.

"Extrey, Extrey! Read all about it! Commissioner's Mistress tells all! Orgy at headquarters! Read all about it!" Sadie frowned as some of her customers started to drift away. She didn't need the extra cash and she was most certainly selling well enough on her own but she'd hoped to at least make double what she'd spent that day and with Kelly acting the way he was she wasn't sure she was going to pull that off. Her frown crinkled her forehead slightly, and she shook her head as she continued calling out her own headline, her voice drowning out the Cowboy's momentarily. She only had a few more to sell as it was. If she could just keep her small voice louder than his for a bit longer she'd be done, and have a hefty sum in her pocket.

"Extra, Extra! Mayah may be behind Uptown killin'! No one is safe! Arson rages in Uptown settl'ments! Read all about it!" Again the crowd began to sway her way, and a satisfied grin crossed her pale lips. Sure, she didn't need to sell here – she could always find a spot where there wasn't any competition for her to face. But half the fun was showing everyone that she was just as good, no, _better_ than the boys. Somedays she won, others she walked away nearly empty handed. It was a gamble she had to take, but this was the best selling spot in town, and Kelly or no Kelly, she wasn't uprooting herself. This was as much her spot as his.

Letting her bonnet fall back as the crowd finally thinned out, Sadie tossed a look back to Jack, letting him know that he hadn't intimidated her in the slightest. The other girls might have been afraid of Kelly and his boys but they'd never put her off in the least bit. She was reminded on a daily basis by one or other of them that she would most certainly never be a "real newsie" but as long as she was pulling in enough to survive she really didn't care. None of the boys caught her eye anyways and she was hardly interested in settling down.

Tucking her shawl around her arms she sent a wave to Jack, who grumbled something under his breath and turned his back on her setting his hat low over his eyes, and she set off in the direction of home, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. She needed to make it back before curfew and since tomorrow was a Sunday, Mrs. Winthrop made sure it was extra early. If she didn't speed up her steps she would never make it in time and the doors would be locked, leaving her to fend for herself for the night. Looking up and across the street to check for traffic she didn't see the cane that slipped out in front of her, set to trip up her footing. Two more steps and she was stumbling over herself nearly landing on her face, a few lucky quick steps the only thing keeping her from smacking the pavement. A soft chuckle started up behind her. Whirling around she glared at the boy who was leaned up against the wall of a near by alley, nearly doubled over with laughter.

"What the hell are ya doin' outta Brooklyn, Spot?" She hissed, gathering up the few things that had spilled from her purse in her near spill. The boy merely shrugged and used the tip of his cane to knock her bonnet down into her face.

"Just stoppin' by. Gots some business to talk over with Jacky Boy." Sadie grimaced and straightened herself up. Brushing by him she kept her head held high as she continued hurrying towards the dormitory, trying to ignore that he was nipping at her heels, still laughing. If she stopped to deal with him now, she'd be late for sure, and there was no way Conlon was going to win by making her sleep on the street. "So what, yer too good ta talk to me now?" His tone was mocking, and had he spoken to her like that a few years earlier he might have actually cut her a bit. But after years of dealing with the male half of the business she'd learned to let everything roll of her back. They were looking for a reaction, and if they didn't get one it was more than likely that they'd just let her be.

"Spot, dontcha gotta go see Cowboy? I ain't got time for youse today." Her tone was sharp and her words were short. Spot shrugged and took a few steps in front of her so that he could block her path. She sighed and shoved him hard to get by, managing only a few steps before he was in front of her again. "I'se ain't playin' with you, Conlon. Move." Her voice was dangerously low but Spot had always been one to play with fire and as if to egg her on he poked her stomach slightly with the tip of his cane. She only knocked it aside and continued. She was proving harder to break today than he'd thought.

"Aw, come on Sadie. I'se just playin'. Take a minute." He went to grab her shoulder but she shrugged him away coldly, not even stopping to exchange words.

"Spot. I'm going to be late and God knows Mrs. Winthrop will want to kill if I'se ain't home on time. So, for Christ's sake, move." She could see the dormitory, and she knew that if she made a break for it she'd be able to make it home in time without chance of Spot catching up. But she didn't want to run away from him. The last thing she needed to do was show some sign of weakness.

"Ah, ah Sadie, sweetheart. Move, _what_?" Spot had a satisfied smirk as his cane shot out in front of her again, stopping short of her stomach. She was fuming now, and he couldn't even suppress the sadistic grin that was starting to spread across his face. Sure, Spot Conlon was a ladies man, but Sadie was no lady.

"Do youse treat ya boys like dis?" She spat out.

"No." Spot smirked slightly and pushed her bonnet back as she walked away. "But dey'se my boys. You - you ain't neva gonna be one of us, Sadie. Youse is different." He watched with a sick contentment as Sadie's face fell slightly, barely detectable but he saw it all the same. She didn't understand why he always seemed to single her out to torture but she seemed to be the focus of all his taunts whenever he was in the district. And as long as he kept it out of earshot of Racetrack, maybe the only boy who'd given Sadie a chance,he usually got away with it with a few good laughs from the other newsies. "Now, move _what_?"

Sadie's face fell even further. She was defeated.

"Move … please." Every ounce of strength in her body was going towards not smacking that hideous grin right off his face.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He dropped his cane and let her sidle past, his hands slipping into his pockets as he took a few steps away. "All ya hadda say was 'please'! I tell ya, girls taday ain't got no manners."

"Yeah, fuck you, Conlon." He wasn't sure, but he was fairly certain he caught the hint of a tear in the corner of her eye, but bit his tongue about it. There was only so far you could push her before she went crying to Higgins with her tail between her legs. And the last thing Spot needed was a fight with Manhattan. He watched her turn sharply, her whole body tense, and smirked as she hurried away, head bent. She really was crying.

A part of him told him should feel badly, but all he felt was an overwhelming sense of glee. The News Girls had been nothing but a thorn in his side since Pulitzer and his goons had decided that the boys just weren't cutting it on their own. They took away from business and what was worse, they were marrying off his newsies left and right. He was losing good men to respectable jobs, and so was Manhattan. And consequently the tension between the sexes ran high. He suspected Sadie there, had her sights set on Race, and that just made his blood boil. Sure, Race wasn't his boy – but he was his friend and the last thing he wanted to see was his friend tied down to some whiney, snot-nosed little good for nothing News Girl. And so he treated Sadie with all the malice he could muster. He'd put her in her place yet again. Conlon - 1, Sadie - 0


	2. Just Walkin'

You're on your own my little nightmare  
You cannot stay here, it's far too bright for you  
If they attack you just lay there,  
Play dead dear, it's your only hope of pulling through

"_You - you ain't neva gonna be one of us Sadie. Youse different._" The words burned through Sadie's skull like a brand. Her blood had reached it's boiling point hours ago and the fire under her skin didn't seem like it would be quelling anytime soon. She didn't know why it was bothering her so much, especially to the point where it was keeping her up at night like this; and from none other than Spot Conlon. Why did she give a damn about what Spot Conlon thought anyways? What difference did it make to her if she didn't fit in with those careless street waifs that stole from her profits. They all drove her crazy as it was, with their stupid grins and slow wit. She needed them for one thing – helping her read the headlines. Beyond that they were useless. She didn't need to fit in with them. She didn't need to be their friend. Hell, she didn't even need to be civil to them. They most certainly weren't civil to her.

But still, here she was, three AM, wide awake, staring at a wall, thinking about how Spot Conlon thought she was different. And what was worse, she was letting herself get upset about it. She had to be awake in two hours so sleep was fairly pointless by now and she pushed herself up with a sigh. Maybe a walk around before the distribution office opened up would help clear her head. Slipping her dress on over her shift in one fluid motion she slid into her shoes and carefully crept out of the dormitory and down the steps. Mrs. Winthrop's, the dormitory mistress', snores could be heard from her bedroom just behind the front desk and Sadie took extra care in sneaking by towards the front door. If she was caught out after curfew she was sure to be tossed out on her ass. The boys didn't have a ridiculous curfew, but naturally the 'young ladies' needed a bit more fencing in. It was only 'natural' for the newsies to want to spread their wings and live the good life, but even though they were the poorest of the poor, the News Girls were expected to make good little wives one day. Lifting the latch Sadie slid out onto the street, cool and damp in the early morning.

She wasn't sure just where she was headed, but her feet seemed to lead the way and she hardly looked up from the pavement as she walked. The streets were empty, too early for the business crowd, and too late for most of the loud roustabouts that seemed to people the city at night. Still, Sadie kept her guard up and her arms wrapped tight around herself as if it would ward off anyone looking to start trouble with her. Head tucked down she didn't see the figure slip from alley behind her, taking up silent step behind her. Hanging a left at the next intersection, Sadie coughed slightly as the cold morning air rushed into her lungs, burning her chest like a poorly inhaled cigarette. The figure followed, a hand coming up to wipe at its nose, stifling a sniffle. Tucking her shawl over her head to fight against the morning chill, Sadie slipped down a back alley that lead towards the distribution offices and Tibby's. The restaurant wouldn't be open yet but she could wait around for the early morning crew and hopefully grab a cup of coffee before heading back to sneak back in. Pausing to let a carriage slip past her in the street, Sadie still didn't see the figure as it closed in on her, a hand coming to grab her shoulder.

"Jesus!" She whirled around with a startled cry and nearly smacked Racetrack Higgins straight across the mouth to get the stupidly smart grin off his face. Her shawl fell backwards and her hair tumbled into her eyes as it was set completely free. "What da hell do ya think your doin', Race! Fuck! Ya scared the hell outta me! Ya can't _do_ that – give a girl a heart attack why dontcha!" She let out a rush of air and pushed his chest hard, as if to get across just how badly he'd frightened her. He didn't even stumble backwards at the shove, but gave her an apologetic smile and shook his head slightly as he moved to muss her dark hair, which for once wasn't hid underneath a bonnet or kerchief.

"Whaddaya think your doin' out so early, huh? Anybody coulda just come up and nabbed ya, stupid." He threw a friendly arm around her shoulder and tugged her close. "Where were ya headed anyways?" He tipped his hat back a bit so he could see her better and raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She merely shrugged and shook her head, her hands folding down in front of her waist.

"I don't know. Just walkin'. Couldn't sleep. Y'know how it is." There was no use telling Race about what Spot had said. She knew it would end in either one of two ways and she wasn't really comfortable with either of them. Race would either hunt out Spot to pick a fight she knew he couldn't win but would fight 'til the end anyways, or he would shake his head at her in that overly patronizing way he'd seemed to have perfected and tell her that of course she was different. She was a girl. She'd never be a real "newsie" … she'd always just be a News Girl. There was most definitely a difference there. So instead she stayed quiet and let her head fall against his shoulder as they walked. Race was safe and there was something comforting in the fact that she had _someone_ here to keep watch over her.

When she'd first been forced into the business of pushing papes, four years back, she'd only been 12 and somehow, out of the goodness of his heart or her pure good fortune, Race had offered to take her under his wing. He hadn't been much older than her then, only 13, but he had grown mature beyond his years in all the time he'd spent toughing it out on the streets. He'd shown her the ins and outs of New York, all the tricks of the trade she'd managed to perfect over the years to survive. Sure, she wasn't half as good as Race when it came to selling papes, but she made good enough money for herself. Though Sadie was reluctant to admit it, without him she surely would have starved her first year on the job. But somehow, with his help and the grace of God, she was still standing at 16, a bare wisp of a girl, true, but still fed enough to survive. She never said thank you for Race's help – things just weren't like that between them. But she knew he knew, and that was enough.

"Just walkin'?" Race raised an eyebrow again and shook his head. There was no way she was telling him the truth. He knew her too well, and on top of that she looked as if she'd just been hit by a truck; hair a mess, dress wrinkled, eyes puffy and swollen from lack of sleep. She was definitely lying to him. "Whaddid he say this time?" Sadie merely shook her head and shoved him with her shoulder slightly. Rolling his eyes he pulled her closer again and slowed his step a bit so he was sure he had her full attention. "Ise don't know why you listen to him, Sade. He ain't worth none of ya time. He's just lookin' ta get ya all riled up and ya let him. Just let it go. Whatever he said, it ain't worth getting' worked up over. Ya know Conlon just talks out of his ass." Race's respect for Spot ran deep, but he still new a jerk when he saw one. Conlon might've been one of the most powerful newsies in all of New York but that didn't make him any less of an ass when he put his mind to it.

Sadie laughed softly at this and shook her head, looking up at Race with a weak smile. "Youse gonna sell with me today?" Her voice was soft as she spoke, but still spirited and light. Race nodded faintly and tugged playfully on a stray strand of hair, giving her one of his million watt smiles. She returned it crookedly and pushed herself away from him slightly. "I should head back then. I gotta clean up and all. I must look a bloody mess." He rolled his eyes again and pushed her shoulder playfully.

"Well ya don't gotta get all pretty for me. But Conlon is still in our territory if ya wanna start impressing him."

Sadie wrinkled her nose and shook her head, her tongue poking out at Race from between her pale lips. She punched his shoulder lightly before slipping her hands into the pockets of her dress, taking a few steps backwards as she did so.

"I'll meet youse at Tibby's in fifteen, Race. Wait for me."

The boy nodded and raised a hand to her, before letting his own hands slip into his pockets, digging for his pouch of tobacco and rolling papers. Fifteen minutes was just enough time for a smoke. Sadie was racing through the slowly busying streets, anxious to get back before Mrs. Winthrop opened her doors. If she was lucky she'd have enough time to clean up well before heading back up to meet Racetrack. But that wasn't what was foremost on her mind. Though Race didn't realize it, he'd implanted the seeds of an idea in Sadie's head that was certain to be the end of life as he knew it. Right now, as he ran his tongue along the outside edge of the rolling paper in his hand, he was just concerned about tossing his papes before going out to the races, possibly with Sadie in tow. Another day to carry the banner had begun.


	3. The Long Walk To Sheepshead

Well she was just seventeen, you know what I mean?

And the way she looked was way beyond compare.

So how could I dance with another when I saw her standing there?

Pushing her hair out of her face, Sadie bent over the wash basin rubbing her hands together briskly through the cold water, bracing herself for the shock of splashing the icy water on her face. She'd dug out her nicest dress for the day, and she'd run a comb through her hair for exactly one hundred strokes, and once the dirt of the street was scrubbed off, she might actually pass for presentable. There was no harm in looking nice before suggesting her idea to Race – her crazy idea. She knew that convincing him to help her was going to be difficult, next to impossible most likely, but she trusted her powers of persuasion to bring him around to her side.

She sucked in a deep gasp of air as she brought a handful of water up over her face, the cold stinging through her eyelids and making her shudder. Some of the other girls liked to wake up early to boil water for washing, but Sadie preferred those precious extra moments of sleep in exchange for a cold awakening. Scrubbing at her cheeks, she kept her movements brisk to speed the process and soon she was looking up at a clean face, slightly red from the rough scrubbing, but clean none the less. Drying off and tying back her hair, she gave herself one last look over before hurrying to grab her small coin purse, shoving it deep in the pocket of her skirt as she hurried out the door.

Her shoes click-clacked along the bumpy pavement of the bustling New York streets as she ran along them, dodging on coming pedestrians with ease thanks to her small frame. She mumbled "'scuse me, please" to those who got in her way too late, and despite the early morning jumble of workers and shoppers, she found herself slipping into Tibby's only a few moments late – not that that would stop Race from complaining. Anything beyond five minutes early was late in his world. The bell above the door rang merrily, announcing her arrival and she took her time regaining her breath from her jog before making her way over to the booth she saw Race had saved.

"Jesus. What da hell took so long…" Race started, only just barely looking at her through the smoke of his cigarette. He fell silent as she approached and gave a low whistle as he looked her over. "Ya clean up nice, kid."

"Yeah, yeah. Ya buyin' or are ya gonna be a cheap date again?" Sadie smirked at him and let him hold the door open for her, before heading inside.

"I ain't no cheap date." He spit back at her playfully, following after her, taking a seat at a booth across from her. "Ya look nice."

"Yeah?" she folded her hands on the table, and ordered herself a cup of coffee. "It's nothin' fancy." There was a moment of silence. "Ya sellin' with me today, still?"

"Of course I'se…"

Sadie could only assume he meant to agree with her, but he was cut off by the slamming of a set of large hands against their table. She winced slightly, following the hands up to set of lean arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, her eye continuing to narrow but determined shoulders. She didn't want to look up any further. She already knew who it was.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

"Get lost, Spot." She spat out. Her insides were already beginning to twist at the thought of him being so close to her. He made her plain nervous – and on top of that he just made her feel awful.

"Jeeze, Sadie. Ya don't need t'be a bitch about it. I was just makin' my way over to say g'mornin' to Race here. Don't get your bloomers all in a knot." He and Race exchanged a quick spit shake, and the next thing Sadie knew she was being shoved over against the wall to make room for Brooklyn. She tried to send Race a pleading look but he was already deep in conversation with the boy at her side. Fantastic.

It felt like hours before the bells started ringing to let the boys know the papers were hot off the presses and waiting for them at the distribution office. Sadie nearly got lost in the mass exodus from the restaurant and it was only Race's careful eye that kept her from falling underfoot of the anxious newsies.

"Ya gotta be more careful, girlie." He warned as they fell into step with one another on the sidewalk, his arm wrapping around her shoulder playfully. "Ya know they all can't see ya. You'se a shrimp."

Sadie's face wrinkled up in irritation.

"A shrimp, huh? And what does dat make you? Goliath?" Race looked vaguely offended but was cut off from speaking in his own defense by her hand. "I'se right and ya know it."

An irritated glance. Silence. Sadie laughed and fell into line behind Race as they all waited anxiously for the shudders to the service window to open. Finally, a smiling old face pulled back the wooden slats and gave the boys a wave.

"Sorry to keep you young fellas waiting. These old bones of mine don't move like they used to."

The strike had seen the end of Weasel and the Delancey's for good, and within a few days Mr. Menahem had come into replace the good for nothings. Sadie liked Mr. Menahem, and so did he boys. He was old but kind, and he always double counted your papes for you to make sure he wasn't cheating you. And whenever Sadie approached the window he always greeted her in the same way.

"Young lady, I have a new riddle for you today." He said, as he started counting out her papes.

"I'se ready for it this time, Menahem. You give it ta me."

"Though it be cold, I wear no clothes. The frost and snow I never fear; I value neither shoes nor hose and yet I wander far and near. My diet is forever good, I drink no cider, port, nor sack. What Providence doth send for food I never buy, nor sell, nor lack."

At this point he'd hand her her papers and fold his arms with an excited smile on his face as she fished out her coins.

"Ya know, Mr. Menahem. I don't think I know dat one." She slid the shiny silver coins under the bars.

"Well, dat's no surprise!" Came an exclamation from one of the boys. Sadie whirled around, eyes narrowed as she tried to single out just who it had been. A sea of snickers met her and she bit her lip as she felt shame fall in, her cheeks flushing.

"Hey, if you'se so smart why don't you go ahead an' answer it smart guy?" She spat out, turning back to the window and Mr. Menahem. "I'll think in it real hard." She shouldered her papes and hopped off the platform to Race's side, following him out onto the street.

"What's it say, Race?" She asked quietly, looking down at the paper in her hands blankly. She could pick out a few basic words here and there, like "red" and "ice" and "mayor", but that was about it.

"Well, let's see. We got some more on the Mayor's Ice Trust Scandal – no one cares 'bout that. An' we got … nothin'. Just make somethin' up, Sade."

She wrinkled her nose and stared blankly at the page for another moment before raising the paper up above her head.

"Extra, Extra! Read all about it! Murderer still at large! Where will he strike next?"

Race picked up her idea and together they managed to sell out their papes without much effort. Race was ecstatic.

"Come on, Sadie. We got the whole afternoon aheada us." He was already dragging her in the direction of the walk to the trolley that would lead them down to at least the outskirts of Manhattan, where they'd have a long walk across Brooklyn to the tracks – Sadie wasn't looking forward to it in the least. Undoubtedly, he'd be coming home with lighter pockets that night. As they settled down on two of the only seats open, Sadie folded her hands in her lap.

"Race, I'se got a favor to ask."

"Shoot." He wasn't listening to her, more intent on picking at his fingernails and tapping his foot anxiously against the floorboards. She rolled her eyes.

"C'mon Race. Seriously, listen t'me." She nudged his arm with her elbow sharply to get his attention. "I really need you ta do somethin' for me."

"What?" He was irritated and she almost changed her mind, but taking a deep breath she steeled her nerves and pressed on.

"I want ya to get me into see Medda…"

"Why would ya wanna see Medda? Ya never come with us to see her."

"I'se got my reasons, Higgins." A pause. "Will ya do it?" Race looked completely flabbergasted by her request. She knew if he knew why she was asking, he'd never say yes. But hopefully he'd think she was just curious to meet the woman so many of the newsies revered and leave it at that.

"Sure, why the hell not?"

Sadie breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at Race, her hands again clasping tightly in her lap as she let her head rest back against the window, hoping to make up for the long night she'd had on the long journey to the other side of the city.

She spent most of what was rest of the day, once they'd finished the long walk to Sheepshead, curled up in a seat by the edge of the track, dozing in and out of consciousness as Race cursed and cheered his bad and good fortune. She didn't even realize the tracks were closing until Race shook her shoulder, waking her up fully, telling her it was time for them to cash in his winnings and start walking home. What should have taken several hours took almost twice that as she lollygagged behind, yawning and stretching. Race was tempted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her the rest of the way several times.

It was late when they got home, far past curfew and Sadie could only hope that Ms. Winthrop would be far past asleep when Race dropped her at her door – otherwise she'd be hard up for a place to spend the night. Staying at the boy's lodging house was simply out of the question, so she had her fingers crossed for good fortune.

Race was apologizing profusely for getting her home so late and she almost wanted to laugh at it. He was never apologetic – ever. She shook her head and nudged him with her shoulder.

"Hey. Cool it. I'll be fine. You just get ya'self home. I'll see ya tomorrow. Don't forget your promise. Once youse done sellin' we're headin' to see Medda." Race nodded at her words and messed her dark hair.

"Yeah, yeah. I won't forget. Meet me at Tibby's around lunch time and we'll head out. I should be done sellin' by then." She nodded and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"See ya, hot shot." He smirked and shot her wave as he started to back away, his hands slipping into his deep pockets, jingling the change there.

"Yeah, see ya."

"A fish!" She exclaimed, just as Race was starting to head back home. His brow furrowed as he turned around, pushing his hat back up out of his eyes to look at her.

"What the hell are ya talkin' about?"

"'Though it be cold, I wear no clothes. The frost and snow I never fear; I value neither shoes nor hose and yet I wander far and near. My diet is forever good, I drink no cider, port, nor sack. What Providence doth send for food I never buy, nor sell, nor lack.' It's a fish!" She continued, obviously excited at her own revelation. Race only laughed.

"Ya crazy – ya know that right?" She smiled at him and shook her head before turning back to the Lodging House doors, opening them slowly.

"Night, Race."


	4. Castle On A Cloud

AN: First of all, please forgive the fact that this is so long coming. I've been so busy with work I haven't had anytime to think about writing. Secondly, forgive that it's so short. It's mostly filler and the real plot movement will begin in the next installment which will be coming very soon, I promise!

Sadie woke far before the sun, yet again, the next morning. It was a habit of hers to wake early – it gave her a better chance at getting her fair share of time in the washroom. Today, more than ever, she wanted to make sure that she looked presentable. In fact, she wasn't even planning on selling today. Instead, she was going to focus all her energy, and some of the looser girls' makeup, on dressing herself up to the nines.

Ringing her wet hair out over the basin, she padded her way to the coal stove that sat at the far end of the bunkroom and lit it up, sliding some hair irons into the coals to heat while she dressed into her best Sunday dress. It was as she slipped into her nicest shoes that the rest of girls began to stir in their beds, responding to Mrs. Winthrop's shrill alarm from down the stairs.

"Get up, ladies! Time for morning prayer before you step out! Up, up, up!"

Sadie rolled her eyes and finished the last lace on her shoe, swinging her legs back to the floor and heading back to the stove. Race was scheduled to meet her here when he finished selling around noon, and together they would make their way to meet Medda at the Dance Hall. Sadie felt her stomach twisting into knots at the mere thought of what she was preparing to ask of a woman she'd never even met. Even still, she swallowed past the lump in the base of her throat and made her way back to the washroom, elbowing the girls out of her way as she focused her attention on her own reflection once more.

"Jesus, Sadie! S'at you?" Race pushed his hat off his brow and squinted his eyes to get a better look at the girl that was making her way down the front stoop of the Girl's Lodging House. Sadie only smiled and held out her arm for him to take, letting him lead her to the town trolley, which he even paid for as they boarded together. "I wouldn'ta even recognized ya, Sade. Ya look …" Racetrack paused and looked the girl at his side over once more. "Ya look real nice." Sadie smiled again and nudged him with her shoulder.

"A real pig's ear into a silk purse, eh?" She teased and tossed some of her curls back over her shoulder as she brought a hand up to fix the coal that lined her eyes. She felt distinctly out of her element as she noticed some of the other working boys on the trolley eyeing her, but she forced herself to smile at them coyly and tightened her grip on Race's arm until they stepped of the car in front of Medda's place.

"Well, here we are." Race looked up at the grand marquee that framed the entrance to the theater, proclaiming Medda's name in large swooping letters next to a flattering likeness of the matron herself. "Now, are ya gonna tell me what you wanted to come down here for or not?" Sadie let her lips twist up into a smirk and shook her head.

"Not."

The seats and tables inside were already crowded, and Race wrapped an arm around Sadie's shoulder protectively to keep her from getting jostled by the rambunctious boys that had filled the establishment to the brim. She was grateful for the gesture, and squeezed herself closer to Race's side as they made their way to the front row where none other than Jack Kelly was seated. And next to him… Sadie grimaced at first but forced her face into a pleasant expression as she and Race sat down at the table.

"Sadie. S'at really you?" Spot raised an eyebrow as Race pulled her seat out for her. Sadie rolled her eyes and scooted the chair in.

"Yes, Conlon." She kept her words clipped and immediately turned to Race, pleading with her eyes to lay her case before Jack who would have the final say in whether or not she got backstage tonight.

"So, Cowboy, Sadie here wanted to meet Medda." Race started slowly, lighting up a cigar and taking a few puffs before continuing. "She's never even been to a theata' before! Real uncultured this one, figured you'd be the one to introduce her to the nicer side'a New York." Sadie had to hide the offended glare behind her hand, knowing that Race was only trying to win Jack over to her side. The Cowboy seemed to think it over for a long moment, using Race's cigar to light his own smoke before speaking up.

"S'fine. I'll get her back there."

Sadie breathed a sigh of relief. She'd expected Jack to voice an objection which would have led to a long exchange of words between himself and his second in command. This was turning out to be much easier than she'd thought. She relaxed in her chair and let Race buy her a drink, which sipped at as she watched the performance that was taking place in front of her eyes.

Race hadn't been lying, Sadie really had never been to a theatre, and this was the first time she'd ever seen a performer that didn't work on a street corner. She was absolutely in love. It seemed to her that this was the most glamorous life that anyone could ever aspire to. And more than that, all the boys seemed to fall at the feet of the women that danced around the stage – even Spot grew quiet when Medda took the stage.

This was everything Sadie wanted.

It was late when the show ended, and Sadie was glad for the few drink she'd tossed back, for they'd calmed her nerves to the point she was almost positive she could petition Medda. Jack was finally pushing away from the table, a heavy bit on the tipsy side himself, and he nodded to the rest of the group to follow him the stage entrance. Sadie took hold of Race's arm and let him lead her after Jack.

Backstage was bustling even though the show was over. Some performers were celebrating, some were already practicing for tomorrows show. And in the middle of all of them stood the red headed ring leader – Medda herself, the Swedish Meadowlark. Sadie swallowed hard as Jack brought them all up to her. She was so nervous suddenly, in fact, that she didn't notice Jack was introducing the two until it was almost too late.

"…is Sadie." He was saying, nodding at Sadie, who looked up immediately and smiled at Medda.

"Pleasure, ma'am." Medda smiled and gave a little curtsey before making her way over to Sadie, tilting the girl's head up with an apprasing eye.

"Oh no, love. The pleasure is all mine." She was still searching Sadie's face, and the girl swallowed hard, waiting for the next words. "You're very pretty." Sadie blushed furiously and turned her head away, murmuring a soft thank you. Medda chuckled and took a step back, ready to turn to her dressing room. Sadie's chance was about to disappear and she took a deep breath and steeled her nerves.

"Medda, ma'am. May I talk ta ya… privately?" She folded her hands in front of her and straightened her shoulders up. The older woman smiled and nodded, holding the door to her dressing room open for her, allowing her inside before shutting it behind her.

"How can I help you, my dear?" Her voice was light, and sophisticated, everything that Sadie's wasn't, but she was positive, _positive_, with this woman's help, she could learn.

"I came to ask you about a job, Miss Medda."


End file.
